“Sometimes letting go is the ultimate act of love—both for the other person and for yourself.” ~Unknown

I never imagined that the same classroom where I found love would become the first chapter of a story about letting go.

Ten years ago, as an undergraduate student full of dreams and certainty, I met him. We were classmates first, then friends, and finally, lovers who thought we’d conquered the dating game by finding our perfect match so young.

During our college years, our bond seemed unshakeable. We even chose to intern in the same city, not wanting distance to separate us. I remember the tiny apartment we’d meet in after long workdays, sharing instant noodles and big dreams. We thought we were building our future together, one shared experience at a time.

But as graduation approached and those dreams began taking concrete shape, hairline cracks started appearing in our foundation. While I envisioned building a family by twenty-seven, seeing myself hosting Sunday dinners and creating a warm home, he was focused on making his mark in his career. Every conversation about the future seemed to pull us in opposite directions.

Those differences erupted into arguments that stretched across two years. Each fight left us more entrenched in our positions, unable to find middle ground. What had once been loving support for each other’s goals became a tug-of-war between two different life paths. We kept trying to bend each other’s vision of the future until we finally realized that some dreams can’t be compromised without breaking the dreamer.

In 2022, after a decade of love, memories, and shared history, our relationship ended. The future I had spent ten years imagining disappeared overnight. Every plan, every dream, every “someday” we had talked about vanished, leaving me feeling like I was free-falling through space without a tether.

The first year after our breakup was the hardest challenge I’ve ever faced. I was struck down by bronchitis, and in those dark nights of physical and emotional pain, thoughts of giving up crossed my mind. Why should I continue when the future I had built my entire adult life around had crumbled?

But in those moments of deepest despair, a quiet voice inside me asked, “Why should I give up my life for a rejection? Why should someone else’s inability to choose me determine my worth?”

That was my turning point. I realized that by entertaining thoughts of giving up, I was rejecting myself far more brutally than anyone else ever could. The end of a relationship, even a decade-long one, didn’t have to mean the end of my story.

Here’s what I learned about surviving the death of a future you thought was certain:

1. Your plans changing doesn’t mean you failed. Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is acknowledge that two good people can want different things, and that’s okay.

2. The length of a relationship doesn’t determine its success. Those ten years weren’t wasted—they were filled with growth, love, and lessons that shaped who I am today.

3. Physical illness and emotional pain often go hand in hand. Taking care of your body becomes crucial when your heart is healing.

4. The future you imagined isn’t the only future possible. When one door closes, it doesn’t mean you’re trapped—it means you’re being redirected to a path you haven’t imagined yet.

5. Choosing life is an act of courage. Every morning you get up and face the day, you’re choosing to believe in possibilities over past pain.

It took me a full year to finally accept that I would never have that particular future I had planned. But in accepting that loss, I found something unexpected—freedom. Freedom to reimagine my life without compromising my core desires. Freedom to discover who I am outside of a relationship that had defined my entire adult life.

Now, looking back, I understand that the end of our relationship wasn’t just about losing someone I loved; it was about finding myself. In choosing to live, to move forward, to accept the end of one dream as the potential beginning of another, I discovered a strength I never knew I possessed.

To anyone reading this who’s in the depths of heartbreak, questioning whether they’ll ever feel whole again: you will. Not in the same way—you’ll never be the same person you were before this loss. But you’ll be stronger, wiser, and more authentically yourself than ever before. The future you imagined may be gone, but the future you’ll create might be even better than anything you could have planned.

Choose life. Choose yourself. Choose to believe that an ended relationship isn’t a failed one—it’s just a completed chapter in your ongoing story.

About Kalyani Abhyankar

Kalyani Abhyankar is a professor of law and mindset coach, specializing in administrative law and consumer protection. She is passionate about helping others cultivate a limitless mindset and personal growth through her work on LinkedIn and beyond.